Arlington, Texas, Cadlin Storage Facility, 2019

Cadlin Storage, just east of expansive Lake Arlington, was a small, family owned and operated business carefully selected by Noah due to their minimal requirements for identity checks.

The business serviced the private individual mostly; people storing excess furniture along with personal and household items. As a result and since it was assumed the items held little monetary value, security at Cadlin was much lighter than that of one of the larger Big Yellows or SafeStores offering the same service.

This suited the Sutherlands just fine.

Noah pulled the Dodge up right outside the lobby; and noted they'd refurbished since his last visit years ago. Trying to look as collected as possible under the circumstances, he walked through the new glass sliding doors, over the polished cream tiles and up to the modern reception desk.

A young girl stood as he entered and smiled sweetly at him. She seemed happy to have a customer. "Howdy!"

Noah plastered a smile on his highly stressed face, "Hi there… I don't think I remember seeing you here before?"

"Miss Melissa Cadlin," she replied, politely extending her hand for him to shake.

"Noah Sutherland… very nice to meet you." In the back of his mind, Noah vaguely recalled a young teen-ager hanging out, when he first opened their account. He wondered whether this was the youngest of the eight Cadlin children now grown. "I'd like to access my storage unit, please."

"Yes, of course, Mr. Sutherland. One moment please." She turned to her computer and began typing away furiously at it.

Noah glanced back over his shoulder and out into the parking lot, his nerves on high alert. He watched the girl with a deep suspicion he knew was ridiculous. His knee tapped apprehensively against the side of the desk and he held back the desire he had to scream at her to hurry it up.

"Ah, here you are!" she said at last, clicking her mouse. "Could you please confirm your address?"

Noah faltered for a second, wracking his brain. They always used a fake address to open a storage account. He began to worry but then remembered with an ache in his heart. "Oakdale Avenue."

The printer on the desk woke up with a sputter and began to spew out a printed sheet.

She passed this over to Noah along with a pen. "Sign here, please."

He scribbled his name; and she compared his signature to that on the computer screen before printing out another slip of paper.

"Here's your code. You haven't been in quite sometime I see. Do you remember how it works?"

Noah nodded. "Thanks."

His heart pounded so hard he could hear it. He approached the electronic keypad and punched in the computer-generated code.

The gate clicked and he pushed his way through it, following the long vacant corridor of rented lockers to the elevators. He pressed for the second floor and, as the elevator rose, used the back of his hand to wipe away the sweat from his forehead.

Of course they'd been spotted before, numerous times. Especially in the beginning, when the story was hot and their arrest photos were plastered side by side all over the front page of every national newspaper.

"…still at large. Believed armed and extremely dangerous. Do not approach."

If they hadn't been in such a serious situation, they both might have taken the time to laugh at that. But in those first few months, they'd simply had to keep on the move with their artificially-colored hair left to grow and sporting beards; waiting for people to lose interest. Always with "the plan" carefully laid out and often rehearsed.

But this time on the run, things would be different. Within the next few hours, a federal computer would match Luke Sutherland's fingerprints to that of the missing Luke Snyder. Shortly after that, the feds would learn of Noah and their son…

This time their cover was well and truly blown.

Oh Leo!

Noah's stomach somersaulted; and he pressed his hands to the cold steel of the elevator, a wave of nausea claiming him.

He hadto hold it together. Luke said the district attorney was working on getting him released. There was still a chance for them to make it out, if they could only keep their cool. They'd worry about everything else once they were safely at the cabin.

Going back to the trailer was out of the question. Any possessions they had stored there were now lost to them. That would be the first place the feds would head the moment they discovered Luke's identity. And as far as Noah knew, they already had.

"Don't take any risks!"

With Damian's voice firing instructions, Noah knew he needed to stock up on essentials; and for that he needed cash, a lot of it.

He entered the pin to open locker 213; and withdrew the brown paper bag, peeling back the flap to make sure the money was still in there, even though he could feel it was.

More than $50,000 cash; all that was left of the money Damian had given to them, stored away for quick retrieval. Money especially for this day, one they hoped would never come.

Also in the safe was a small semi-automatic pistol along with a box of bullets. Noah hesitated a second but grabbed the weapon, checked the safety; and stuck it into the tight waistband of his jeans, making sure his shirt covered it. He snatched the bullets and dropped them in the paper bag along with the money.

So far so good.

Noah arrived back in the lobby with the large brown paper bag of money hefted under his left arm; and pressed against his chest.

"Did you get everything you wanted, Sir?" Melissa inquired.

"Yes, thank you I did," Noah replied, trying but failing to keep the uneven tone from his voice. "Goodbye."

As he turned to leave he froze. Parked beside his bright red pickup was a police patrol car and two officers were taking a rather unhealthy interest in it. One of the men even stood up on the truck's step to peer inside.

Noah tightly gripped the paper bag; and held back a gasp, when that same officer locked eyes with him through the plate glass window.

Shit!

With nowhere to run, Noah was forced to remain exactly where he was, as the officer jumped back down from the truck and walked forward, activating the glass doors. They slid open and a breath of hot Texas air blew in; stifling, suffocating.

Breathe! Keep calm!

"That your truck?" the officer asked, thumbing back over his shoulder.

Very slowly, Noah's right hand slid across his lower stomach and behind the large paper bag, curling around the handle of his hidden gun. He didn't everwant to threaten anybody. But he would if he had to.

Since he was the only person the truck couldpossibly belong to, Noah nodded. "Yeah."

"Sure is a beaut'!" The man's serious face burst into a wide grin of glee. "'62?"

Heart hammering, hairs on the base of his neck rising, Noah carefully nodded.

"A classic! Always wanted one of them for mysel' but the little lady forbade it... Says they ain't practical with three kids and one on the way… but I gotta tell ya… in another life I'd be buying mysel' one of them old girls quick like!"

Noah smiled just a little too slowly and he saw a flash of something in the eyes of the second officer.

"You from around here?" the man asked, moving forward to get a better look at Noah.

Noah swallowed. "Um, yeah… I work over at the mall…"

The officer regarded him; chewing on a wad of gum.

"Well…" Noah said, addressing the first cop. "Maybe you'll get your wish one day. Good afternoon to you both."

The second officer seemed to relax and dismiss whatever was bothering him. He smiled at Noah. "Have a nice day now."

Noah had never wanted to run more in his life. But he forced himself to walk back to the truck and casually slip in behind the wheel. He placed the bag on the seat next to him and took a deep breath of air.

When he dared to glance inside the lobby, the cops weren't even looking his way.

Noah drove one block from the storage units; pulled up in an alley; flung himself from the truck; and vomited up his breakfast against the wall.